


Seven Points, Seven Years

by fastdaydreams



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Reminiscing, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:31:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fastdaydreams/pseuds/fastdaydreams
Summary: They always said comparison is a happiness’ thief. Yet, he scrolls down, observing how Jenson’s life seems to be exciting without him. Or at least, it’s the picture the other tries to paint.





	Seven Points, Seven Years

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Belgian GP.

Sebastian sighs after another second place, positioning himself to sleep. Fresh mouth, blue pajamas on, fluffy sheets matching the pillows. Some habits never left the red youngster.

His thumb is uncomfortably hurting after navigating through a single page, full of enviable photos. He throws the mobile on the bed. The impact causes it to make a backflip and hit the floor, screen down.

This is the part where he starts to pray to find profound sleep. More than in other occasions, the bed looks incredibly large. Empty.

As he approximates the eyelids, different flashbacks crosses his unstoppable mind, without criteria or order, but with a character in common.

_ Suddenly, he wakes up, walking without slippers, warm temperature contrasts with the marble floor. _

_ Seb observes through a glass wall, darkness not giving a full perception of how tall the construction was. _

_ The material’s natural coldness reaches his fingers. A shiver crosses the left forearm. Cars doing the contour on city’s veins, a variety of lights turned on or switched off on individual apartments, making him reflect about anonymous lives. _

_ Everything looked more interesting than counting sheep. _

_ “Can't sleep?” _

_ The question is slowly hushed, the closest possible to the back of this neck. Sebastian doesn't move, swearing only a couple of atoms are separating both.  _

_ Their shared gaze are green lights to each other, advancing with the enthusiasm of a rookie pursuing the highest prize, a million stars colliding, the taste of adrenaline without gripping the steering wheel. _

_ “It's… it's wrong” _

_ “Tell me what's right, then” _

Still with eyes shut, exhaustion heavily takes his body. Exhaling, the next reminisce comes without excusing itself.

_ A week of long commercials, fan meetings. _

_ As soon as a hidden spot was found, demanding kisses are exchanged. Fingertips brush the sensitive skin right behind the neck. Breathing out, the confession is almost an obsession. _

_ “I missed you” _

_ Jenson guides Sebastian's hands to his hard on, explaining. _

_ “I missed you this fucking much. Now touch me, please”. _

_ Trying to get rid of the pants before his shoes, it's impossible to Button to not laugh. _

_ “Babe, take it easy” _

A shy smile fills the cheekbones. But it starts to fade away as soon as the most recent memory arrives, from that very same day.

_ Walking right after the duo of interviews from C1, David and Mark are too concentrated to observe around. Coulthard, with a hint of disappointment leaving the lips, supposed out loud. _

_ “I'm simply not fazed. They will probably get married” _

_ Later, Maurizio finds Seb puppy eyed inside the garage. Obviously, something or someone had disappointed him. _

_ An independent, successful guy, with an unrequited love. Or maybe one of parts haven't had the courage to confront the world together. _

A single tear travels the soft cheek, falling on the mattress.

_ Sharing onion rings and some cheap beer, Jense, under the influence, gets down on one knee, with a snack on his hands, ready to place it on the German’s forefinger. _

_ “Sebastian Alexander Lyons Vettel, will you…” _

_ Cracking a passionate smile, one of those that can light up a whole country, he pretends to be bothered. _

_ “...Honestly, that's gross. Do better” _

How much Seb admires whoever shakes the dust from their shoulders and moves on after a turbulent relationship.

But that wasn't his case. Not there, not now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Celine Dion once sang about a certain ship: my heart will go on. Which is a perfect definition of my feelings toward sebson.
> 
> (And of course this is fiction. If it was up to me, I'd glue both so they can never leave each other.)


End file.
